


Raise Your Hopeful Voice

by ladyannabethstark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 10:08:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2146755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyannabethstark/pseuds/ladyannabethstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa was content with where her life was going. She had a sparkling engagement ring on her finger and she was about to marry into one of the oldest and most powerful families in the country. If anyone asked her what she thought of her choices in life, Sansa would have said that she didn’t have any doubt that they were the right ones. All of this was true…right up until Jon Snow decided to come back into town and ruin everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raise Your Hopeful Voice

**Author's Note:**

> This is yet another prompt fill that ended up being too long.
> 
> The two dresses that Sansa wears are linked [here](http://lady-annabeth-stark.tumblr.com/post/94910577248/modern-jon-sansa-one-of-them-showing-up-to-stop-the).

Sansa was content with where her life was going. She had a sparkling engagement ring on her finger and she was about to marry into one of the oldest and most powerful families in the country. Her family didn’t approve of her choice of groom but she knew that they would keep quiet for her if it they were certain that it was what she wanted. She thought that she was happy. If anyone asked her what she thought of her choices in life, Sansa would have said that she didn’t have any doubt that they were the right ones. All of this was true…right up until Jon Snow decided to come back into town and ruined everything.

His return to the city came around the same time as her engagement. When he and Robb went to school, all of her siblings loved Jon like he was an extension of the family. Her father loved him like a son and even her mother couldn’t deny that he had a better influence on Robb than Theon. The one person who wasn’t utterly charmed by Jon’s presence in their lives was Sansa. It wasn’t that she disliked him. She simply didn’t know him and he didn’t know her. They never changed that arrangement because there was no reason to. When he went away to college on the other side of the country, Sansa couldn’t really find it in herself to miss him the way her family did. He was a constant in their lives but she had other things to worry about.

The Jon that came back to the city after five years was a completely different person. Robb invited him to their weekly family brunches and Sansa hardly recognized him, only remembering the wiry framed boy and thick-framed glasses. If it weren’t for his perpetually messy dark curls, she would have thought that it was a completely different person. He was a boy no longer, with his button down shirt clinging to his frame in a delightful way. His dark grey eyes were as serious as ever, convincing her that he hadn’t changed that much. Sansa tried to keep her eyes off of him, making a list in her head of the plans that she had that week. Dress shopping, venue searching, and then a preliminary meeting with her bridesmaids at a four star restaurant in lower Manhattan.

She was torn from her thoughts when she felt a presence behind her. Sansa turned with a pitcher of fresh squeezed orange juice in the fridge in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. Jon was in the doorway, looking hesitant with his hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers and his eyes downcast.

“I’m not going to bite, Jon,” Sansa said in a teasing voice, smiling slightly as she bumped the fridge door closed with her hip. “You can come in here if you need something.”

He shook his head, flushing slightly as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I came to say hi, actually,” Jon said, surprising her. “You’re the only one I haven’t talked to yet.”

Sansa overcame her shock quickly, setting the pitcher down for a moment.

“That’s sweet of you,” she said, knowing enough about him to know that he didn’t have any ulterior motives.

Jon was naturally kind, if she remembered right.

“Mimosa?” Sansa asked, lifting a champagne flute.

He watched as she poured the bubbly liquid in before adding the orange juice.

“I think I’ll just stick with milk,” Jon answered.

She made a face.

“You should probably rethink that. I’m asking Arya if she wants to be a bridesmaid when we eat and you might need some alcohol in your system to handle her reaction,” Sansa warned him, taking a long drink of her mimosa before adding more of both liquids.

Jon looked as though he understood exactly what she meant.

“On second thought, I think I will take one,” he decided.

Sansa laughed lightly, pulling another flute towards her to make it for him.

“Here you go,” she said with a small smile, ignoring the warmth of his fingers as they brushed hers when he took the glass.

“Thank you,” Jon said quietly, nodding at her.

Sansa shrugged it off, convincing herself that she was just trying to be welcoming to her brother’s friend.

“To brunch,” she said, holding her flute up.

Jon murmured the words back before they clinked the glass together. As they drank, their eyes met and Sansa silently insisted that the flutter in her heart was because of the champagne, not the way his dark eyes warmed as they gazed at each other.

* * *

With two months since their engagement and six months until their wedding, Sansa was furious. Joffrey decided that now was as good a time as any to join his grandfather in a month-long business trip in Europe and Asia. His excuse was that he needed to get to know the business for when it passed to him but Sansa only heard an excuse to get out of the wedding plans. She also had other, more infuriating suspicions but she had to take a few breaths to convince herself that Joffrey was loyal to her. If she didn’t, then Sansa would have broken off the engagement in a fit of rage. As it were, she still had a lot to do and no fiancé to help her with any of it. Margaery was her maid of honor but with Sansa’s perfectionist tendencies, there was only so much that she could do. Her best friend knew that, doing what was asked of her and nothing more.

“Everything is horrible!” she cried, pacing back and forth in her mother’s kitchen.

“It’s going to be fine, Sansa,” Catelyn tried to convince her, wanting to calm her down.

She shook her head insistently, refusing to believe that it was all going to just fall into place. That was not how her life went historically so she couldn’t rely on faith to see her through these wedding plans.

“We were supposed to go cake tasting tomorrow, Mom! We were going to choose a bride’s cake and a groom’s cake! How am I going to choose a groom’s cake with no groom?” Sansa demanded.

“Because Joffrey would have had just a strong opinion about it,” her brother scoffed as he walked into the kitchen.

Sansa turned to glare at Robb, wanting nothing more than to throw something at him. The only thing keeping her from it was the fact that Jon was right behind him with a wary expression on his face. She took a deep breath, counting to ten as she tried to calm her raging emotions.

“I need someone else’s opinion and I need someone who will be honest with me instead of just choosing what they think that I will want,” she said in a quiet voice, closing her eyes as she prayed for patience.

“What time are you going?” Catelyn asked.

She shook her head, opening her eyes.

“I need a man’s opinion, Mom,” Sansa said, giving her an apologetic look. “I appreciate that you would go but this is really important to me.”

“Men will eat anything,” Robb threw in, proving his point with the big bite of food in his mouth that he spoke around.

Sansa grimaced at him.

“Anyone but him,” she said, pointing at her older brother.

He made a face at her and she rolled her eyes.

“I can go,”

Her head turned as her eyes widened in surprise.

“I don’t want to make you do that, Jon,” Sansa said, realizing that he might have felt guilted into it by now.

“I’m not doing anything else tomorrow and I like cake,” he shrugged.

She gave him a grateful smile.

“Thank you so much.”

Sansa couldn’t restrain herself as she wrapped him in an embrace, or that’s what she tried to convince herself when her body felt a little too right pressed against his and he wound his arms around her torso. When she drew away, their eyes met and she hesitated, remaining close to him for several moments longer than necessary.

“You keep up this chivalry business and she may just marry you instead,” Robb piped up.

They stepped away quickly after that, both flushing as Sansa moved on to the topic of the florist.

* * *

As they took a taxi to the bakery that she chose, Sansa tried to think of things that she could possibly say.

“You were living in North Dakota, right?” she asked.

Jon nodded, glancing over at her.

“How was that?” Sansa questioned.

“Cold,” he answered, smiling slightly. “There was a lot of snow.”

She shook her head.

“I’m not sure that I would like that much,” Sansa admitted.

“It’s actually beautiful, when all you see is white for miles. It also made nights in front of the fire nice.”

Sansa raised her eyebrows.

“I’m guessing you weren’t alone during these nights,” she said, smiling as he chuckled. “There was a girl?”

He nodded, confirming her thoughts.

“There was,” Jon said simply.

She nudged his shoulder gently.

“What happened to this girl?” she asked.

When his smile faded, she felt bad for asking.

“I’m sorry,” Sansa said, shaking her head out of disbelief over her words. “I’m prying into stuff that’s none of my business.”

“It’s all right,” Jon assured her.

She looked over at him, seeing that he looked slightly pained.

“We were at different places in our lives. I wanted to settle down and she didn’t. She was a free spirit. It took her leaving for me to realize that I should have gone with her on the next adventure. I want to have that same freedom of being able to live my life before getting tied down. I want a family someday, but right now I just want to experience was life has to offer,” Jon said, looking out of his window as he spoke.

Sansa glanced down at her lap, trying to figure out what he meant. Part of her could see that he had a point. Even at twenty-four years old, she had not seen much of the world outside of her family vacations. Another part of her balked at the idea of being so loose and free. It sounded terrifying.

“Did you never think about finding her? Living that life with her now?” she asked, looking over at him once more.

Jon shook his head.

“Ygritte and I had it great for a while but I think our flame burned out a long time ago,” he said, gazing into her eyes.

Sansa smiled slightly, unsure of why she felt so happy at his words.

“I guess you’ll just have to find someone who lights another flame for you now,” she said quietly.

A strange look flickered over his face at her words but before she could ask him what he was thinking, they arrived at the bakery. They climbed out of the car quickly and Sansa couldn’t help but wonder what else might have been said if they weren’t interrupted.

* * *

Sansa huffed as she tried to stand from the chair. Her face hurt from smiling, her hair was sprayed so much that she feared that she would never wash all of it out, and her lungs felt like they would never expand fully again because of how tightly the bodice of the dress was laced. On top of all that, she couldn’t even stand up.

“I need help,” she whimpered.

To her surprise, she saw Jon pushing through the crowd of stylists who were all talking about how wonderfully they had done in dressing her up for the photo shoot. He stepped towards her, avoiding the abundant tulle of the dress she was wearing. Sansa took his offered hands with a relieved sigh, almost toppling into him when he pulled her up.

“Having fun?” he asked with a small smile.

Sansa gave him a look, gathering as much of the material of her skirt she could before lifting it so that she could walk.

“Whoever scheduled this stupid photo shoot is going to feel my wrath,” she muttered, beckoning him to follow her to the room that had been set aside for her.

“I believe that’s your future mother-in-law,” Jon reminded her.

She shook her head, wondering how much wrath she would have to show Cersei Lannister to scare her.

“Do you like it?” Sansa asked, gesturing to the dress.

“Well…you won’t have an easy time of getting all of it in the limo. You may have to have your own,” he answered.

She laughed, pushing her door open. It was clear that was his way of saying that he didn’t like the dress.

“It isn’t my wedding dress,” Sansa explained as she tried to get through the doorway. “It’s what they put me in for the photo shoot. I’m going on the front page, apparently.”

She saw him shake his head out of the peripheral of her eye as she glowered at the dress in the large mirror.

“So it’s okay for me to say that it’s not really you?” he questioned, closing the door.

“Oh I would never wear this in normal circumstances. I can’t wait to get out of the damn thing. Can you?”

Sansa turned her back to him, hoping that he would agree to undo her laces. Jon hesitated as she glanced at him over her shoulder.

“I don’t care if you have to cut it off, Jon. I haven’t taken a full breath in three hours,” she said hurriedly.

His fingers nimbly began unlacing it, making her sigh with relief when the pressure on her ribcage went away.

“Oh thank God,” Sansa murmured, bracing her hand on the wall.

“Should I go?” Jon asked once it was unlaced.

She shook her head, waving him off.

“I have a slip on,” Sansa said, shimmying as she shoved the dress down her hips.

As she tried to step out of it, her foot caught on a ruffle and she pitched forward. Jon caught her at the last moment, holding her up as she laughed. Sansa regained her balance, clutching at his upper arms as she found her feet.

“Thank you,” she said, kicking the dress away carelessly as she inwardly cursed the thing to hell.

“It’s no problem,” Jon said, stepping away from her.

Sansa began removing the jewelry, giving him a curious look.

“Did you just want to see what a photo shoot looks like or are you here for another reason?” she asked.

He looked at her carefully as she set the diamond earrings and bracelet on a table.

“It’s nothing really,” Jon said, looking as though he changed his mind, turning towards the door.

“Jon,” Sansa said with a frown, reaching out to catch his arm.

He turned back towards her with a sigh.

“I just needed to…” Jon shook his head, rubbing at his jaw.

“You can tell me, whatever it is,” Sansa encouraged him.

Ever since he saved her by tasting cakes and giving her an honest opinion, Sansa hadn’t gone more than three days without seeing him. They were even setting up times where they could meet, going for coffee or just walking around Central Park. She was determined not to think of any of these as dates. They couldn’t be dates. She was an engaged, soon to be married, woman. But it seemed that for all of her determination, Jon didn’t get the message. When he stepped closer to her, Sansa knew what he intended to do. The worst part was that she didn’t try to stop him. His hand slid around the back of her neck and he looked into her eyes, waiting for her to shove him away and remind him of the sparkling ring on her left hand. Sansa did no such thing. Just as their lips brushed, a loud knock sounded on the door. They sprang apart and Sansa did not even try to avoid stepping all over the dress as she turned her back on him.

“Do you need help getting out of the dress, Miss Stark?” a woman asked through the door.

“I’m fine, thank you!” she called back in a shaking voice.

Sansa turned around slowly, looking at Jon. He looked at her warily, expecting for her to yell or slap him.

“I’m getting married, Jon,” she whispered, as if he didn’t know already.

He took a deep breath, rubbing at his eyes before nodding.

“Yeah,” was all he said in response before turning away.

Sansa called his name as he yanked the door open but he didn’t stop, slamming it shut behind him. She jumped at the loud noise, knowing that this was entirely her fault. For all of her anger at Joffrey for his wandering ways, she was no better than him. Only the person she was most worried about hurting was Jon. Her fiancé didn’t even concern her at the moment.

* * *

Same as with the photo shoot, the expensive black tie rehearsal dinner wasn’t Sansa’s idea either. Cersei certainly looked proud of herself, walking around with a grin so happy that anyone would think it was her wedding. To make it all better, Robb brought Jon at the last minute when Roslin was bedridden with morning sickness that couldn’t tell time. She was drinking more than she should have, but it was all that she could do not to leave the dinner so that she did not have to keep greeting guests with a fake smile, hanging off of Joffrey’s arm as he made no attempt to cover his appreciation of one woman’s short orange dress and what it didn’t cover. When they made their way to her family, Sansa dreaded what conversation might bring up.

“Where are you going for your honeymoon?” Aunt Lysa asked.

Sansa’s smile faltered at the mention and she looked at the ground as Joffrey described their plans. When she felt a familiar gaze on her, she could not help but lift her eyes. Jon was staring at her, a tumbler of whiskey clenched tightly in his hand.

“I think they’ve heard enough, Joff,” Sansa said quietly, unable to tear her eyes away from the dark grey ones that pinned her in place.

Joffrey scoffed and turned to look at her. She turned away from Jon too late and Joffrey, as annoyingly perceptive as he always was, glanced between them.

“Is it a crime to tell my new family how much I’m going to enjoy having my wife every which way in Italy?”

Sansa glowered at him, stepping away.

“That’s enough,” she hissed, yanking her arm away from him. “You need to sober up.”

She turned to walk away, desperately needing to find a place where she would not have to pretend. Sansa pushed into the first room that she found, relieved when she saw that it was an empty powder room. She braced her hands on the counter, staring into the mirror. What she saw in the mirror was a mask of make-up and fake pleasantries to help her get through the night. It was a relief to let it all drop for a few moments. When the door pushed open, she turned her head as if she didn’t already know who would be coming in. Sansa sighed, turning away from him as he shut the door.

“You don’t belong with a guy like that,” Jon said, stepping forward.

She scoffed, turning to face him.

“Jon, please,” Sansa said, shaking her head.

“You know that, Sansa,” he said, reaching out to take her hands in his. “You know that he’s not good for you.”

She pulled her hands away, stepping backwards.

“I am getting married to him tomorrow, Jon,” Sansa insisted.

He followed, unwilling to give up so easily.

“Be honest with me. Be honest with yourself.”

She felt tears stinging at her eyes as she tried not to let herself react to his words.

“Stop it, Jon,” Sansa pleaded.

He caught her face in his hands, cradling her cheeks.

“Tell me you love him, San,” Jon said simply, staring into her eyes. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that you truly love him.”

She whimpered, clutching at his wrists.

“Don’t,” she choked out, shaking her head.

He sighed, laying his forehead against hers.

“You don’t love him.”

She felt tears sliding down her cheeks.

“I can’t do this with you,” Sansa whispered.

“Why not? He doesn’t make you happy. He doesn’t deserve you,” Jon said, trying to convince her. “Tell me why.”

She pushed him away, needing to have space between them.

“You scare the hell out of me, Jon!”

He looked stunned at her words.

“You’re free and unrestrained! You want to see what life has to offer you and I’ve wanted to get married and settled down since I can remember!” she continued, pressing a hand to her chest to feel her heart’s rapid pace. “I’m not like you. I don’t know how to say fuck it and run out of my own wedding.”

Jon stepped towards her again, still refusing to give up. He gathered her in his arms and she let out a gasp just before his lips captured hers. The kiss was hesitant at first but she found herself winding her arms around him as he slid a hand into her hair and gripped her hip with the other. His teeth nipped at her lower lip and his tongue soothed it as her mouth fell open. Her entire body thrummed, her heart beating out his name as she pressed herself even closer to him. When Jon pulled away, her eyes opened slowly to see him staring at her with eyes that were almost black with desire. Sansa felt light-headed, clutching at him to keep herself upright. She couldn’t remember the last time that she’d been kissed like that, if it had ever happened before.

“That’s how,” Jon said simply.

He unwound her arms, stepping away from her before turning to walk out. Sansa remained silent, touching her fingers to her lips as she watched him leave. She was still standing there five minutes later when her mother came looking for her.

* * *

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Sansa didn’t answer Catelyn, staring in the mirror as she smoothed her hands over the pure white gown. She knew why he rmother was asking. The best excuse for finding her in the powder room crying her eyes out was that she was getting cold feet.

“Do I have a choice?” she finally said.

“Of course you do, sweetheart,” Catelyn said, putting her hands on Sansa’s shoulders. “You always have a choice.”

She sighed, ducking her head as she tried to keep herself focused. When they heard a light knock on the door, Sansa looked up in the mirror hopefully. When it was just Robb who peeked his head in, her heart dropped. She hated that she felt this way, that she wanted him to show up. Sansa did not even know what she would do if he did.

“Bridesmaids want your approval,” Robb said, looking at their mother.

“I’ll be right back,” Catelyn promised, kissing her cheek before hurrying out.

Sansa sighed once she was left alone, touching her fingers to the diamond pendent around her throat, a gift from Renly for her engagement. Her eyes closed as she imagined taking it all off and running out of there. It brought her more pleasure to think of than she thought that it would. When the door opened behind her, she straightened her shoulders without opening her eyes.

“We have to put the veil on,” Sansa said.

“I’m not sure I’m the one to help you with that.”

Her eyes opened and she stared in shock as Jon stepped further into the room.

“You came,” Sansa murmured.

He moved closer, standing just behind her while being careful not to step on her short train.

“This is a beautiful dress,” Jon said, smiling slightly as he looked at her reflection. “You look stunning.”

Sansa flushed, meeting his eyes in the mirror. His hand touched her back, his fingers skimming over her bare skin as she shivered and sighed lightly, leaning into the touch.

“I’m leaving, San.”

She looked at him with alarm, turning her head to see that he was staring down at his hand where it traced her spine.

“This is the last time I’m coming,” Jon continued, glancing up into her eyes. “You don’t want to marry him. I don’t want you to marry him. Come with me. See the world as I see it. Live life a little before you decide that settling down is all you want. If you don’t like it, I’ll bring you back.”

Sansa looked back in the mirror, studying herself carefully. He was right. There was no denying that the dress was beautiful and that she looked beautiful in it. But it all looked wrong. The ring on her finger felt heavy, like it was chaining her to something.

“I don’t want to marry him,” she whispered, slipping out of the high heels. “I don’t want to be trapped.”

Jon sighed, laying his forehead against her temple. He pressed a soft kiss to the shell of her ear and her hand lifted, curling into his hair.

“Will you come?”

She took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut before turning towards him. Sansa stared into his eyes for a long moment before leaning in, pressing a determined kiss to his lips. Jon responded eagerly, stroking his thumb over her jaw as they kissed. The door opened but they did not break apart right away, not wanting to ruin it. When she finally pulled away from him, Sansa laughed when he chased her lips with a disappointed grumble. She turned her head to see her mother watching them with a knowing expression.

“I suppose you’ll want to be leaving now,” she said, stepping aside to allow them through.

Sansa took Jon’s hand in hers, entwining their fingers before tugging him to the door.

“Thank you,” she said to her mother, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

Catelyn nodded, looking over at Jon.

“Take care of her,” she said warningly.

“I will,” he vowed, nodding at her.

Sansa pressed the engagement ring into her mother’s hand, giving her a soft smile before hurrying out of the door with Jon. Their laughter echoed down the hall as he pulled her in for one more kiss before they fled from the venue, trying to decide which direction they would travel as he hailed a cab.


End file.
